


The Things I Do For Love

by ineedmysickfix



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Promise of a Happy Ending, Coughing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fainting, Fever, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pneumonia, Set during season 4, Sickfic, Tim Stoker Lives (The Magnus Archives)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29368197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedmysickfix/pseuds/ineedmysickfix
Summary: Jon gets sick and Tim doesn't trust him to be on his own while he's gone so he convinces Martin to watch over him. Martin knows he shouldn't be going against Peter's orders, but what's lonelier than helplessly watching the man you love suffer in his sleep?
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Pre Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 30
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all! Long time no sickfic. Enjoy!

Jon really hoped that he’d never have to go to another hospital again since waking up from his coma. But he really shouldn’t be too surprised when Tim practically dragged him to the nearby clinic after helping Daisy out of the Buried. 

Honestly, Jon felt horrible but it wasn’t completely unbearable. Yes his chest hurt like hell and it was difficult to breathe but Tim was overreacting. Why couldn’t he understand that that was just caused by getting two ribs removed and accidentally inhaling a bit of dirt? And yes, he was constantly fatigued and ended up passing out a few times in the archives but that was just because everyone kept telling him to quit reading statements. He felt like he was going through withdrawal which made every other symptom significantly worse. 

Jon looked around the small exam room and sighed, instantly regretting it when a spike of pain ripped through his chest. Tim was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, eyeing him critically. He should’ve stayed at the Institute, Jon didn’t need a babysitter. Tim was still recovering himself; the explosion during the Unknowing caused a lot of damage to one of Tim’s legs and landed him back in physical therapy. But after essentially bullying him into actually going to the clinic, Tim refused to leave his side until they got back. Even then, Tim heavily implied that he’d stay with him afterward. Jon was rather surprised that Tim still cared after everything that’s happened, he should really do something to make it up to Tim...

“-Do you understand, Mr. Sims?” Jon’s eyes whipped up to look at the doctor stood in front of him. Oh right, she was talking the whole time wasn’t she? He probably should’ve been paying attention.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry,” Jon said, his voice raw and gravelly, “Could you repeat that?”

“Pneumonia, Mr. Sims. Given the amount of foreign matter in your lungs along with your, um,” the doctor’s professional demeanor faltered slightly as she looked over Jon’s file, “...recent removal of two ribs, the pneumonia has developed quite a bit. However, it’s still at a stage where we can treat it with antibiotics and rest so you won’t have to stay here.” She seemed rather relieved at her last point. Magnus Institute employees apparently had a reputation at this clinic and always got high priority, if only to get them out of there faster.

Jon nodded and looked down as his heavily scarred hands, at least he won’t have to stay overnight, he would’ve gone mad. “Thank you, doctor.” Jon heard the scrape of a chair and Tim’s curt voice, “I’ll make sure to take care of him. Just write us the prescription so we can leave.”

The doctor openly glared at Tim but wrote the prescription anyway, shoving it into his hands and turning to her computer without saying anything else. 

“Right, come on now, let’s get you out of here, aye?” Jon felt Tim loop his arm around his waist and lead him out of the clinic. The next thing he knew he was back on the cot in Document Storage with Tim coaxing him to take some pills. When did he get Jon’s prescription? “Okay, take your meds then you can rest, boss.”

Jon frowned and grumbled at the nickname but took the medicine and some water before laying back and closing his eyes. He felt Tim run a hand through his unruly hair, tutting and muttering something about a fever, before he let sleep fully wash over him.

* * *

_To Peter Lukas, Interim Head of Magnus Institute:_

_We have come across an artefact in our current shipment that may interest you. The artefact in question is a necklace that, when worn, causes whomever is wearing it to accurately predict anyone’s death. An item like this would be considered a priceless addition to your collection of similar supernatural artefacts, however due to the difficulty of obtaining it we would like to negotiate possibly setting a price starting at-_

Martin was startled out of his reading by a knock at his office door. There shouldn’t _be_ a knock at this door.

“Martin! Open up, I know you’re in there.” Tim’s voice called out, “Look, I’m being polite by knocking and waiting for you to answer but just know that I’m going to go into your office one way or another.”

Martin sighed frustratedly and deleted the email he was reading. He stood up and walked to his door, opening it to see Tim looking rather haggard, “What do you want, Tim? You know that I can’t talk to you right now.”

He was surprised to see Tim holding a cane, Jon’s cane to be specific, and was favoring his left leg as he stood outside of Martin’s office. “Yes, I know, I know. You need to be alone to work with evil ass Lukas but I really need you.” Tim shifted his weight and leaned more heavily on the cane, “I have a physical therapy session coming up today but Jon’s really _really_ ill and I don’t want him to be alone.”

Martin’s heart ached at Tim’s words. He’d known that Tim’s injuries were bad enough to warrant another round of physical therapy but he’d hadn’t seen to what extent until now. And Jon… Martin shooed away his thoughts before composing himself, “Aren’t there like, four other people in the archives you could ask? Five in total if you include Georgie?”

“Do you think I’d come to you if any of them said yes?” Tim grimaced and tightened his grip on the cane. Did he take the stairs to get up here? Martin sighed and ushered Tim into his office, offering up a chair in front of his desk as he took his own seat. “Thanks, mate. But yeah, Jon isn’t really the most popular person in the archives right now. Melanie’s still pissed at him because she can’t leave and Georgie decided to side with her. Daisy’s grateful to him for saving her and all but Basira doesn’t want her anywhere near him. And she’s been pushing him to cut back on statements ever since he took that live one in the cafe. In all honesty, even if any of them said yes I wouldn’t trust them to be alone with Jon.”

Martin frowned at the memory of the furious woman barging into his office to complain about her encounter with Jon. “Is Jon really that bad off that he can’t be left on his own for a few hours?”

“He has pneumonia, Martin.” Tim let the sentence hang in the air for a bit before continuing, “His little trip into the Buried left him in a really bad state and coupled with how weak he’s been without statements means that yes, he’s so bad off that I don’t want him to be left alone. Last time I stepped out, I got a call from Basira telling me he was passed out in the middle of the archives. Stubborn idiot wanted to work and keep himself busy, you know how he is.”

Martin nodded because yeah that sounded like Jon. Give him even a second and he’s able to find trouble for himself, but… “Look, I get that you’re concerned about him but I’m sorry, I _need_ to be alone, orders straight from Lukas.”

Tim’s face darkened but his expression was still determined, “I know you’re doing whatever this is to protect us, trust me if I was in your position I might’ve done the same. But he’s asleep right now and all I’m asking is for you to just watch him, more specifically I want to make sure he doesn’t get up and move about or that he doesn’t, I dunno, suffocate himself in his sleep. Please, Martin. My therapy is only two hours so I’m sure he’ll probably stay asleep until I get back.”

Martin cursed those damn signature Stoker Puppy Eyes. Even with how tired Tim looked they still ended up winning him over. Martin sighed dejectedly and stood up, “Fine, alright. I can spare a few hours.” Maybe looking after Jon while he was sleeping could be considered a lonely experience? They’d be in the same room but Martin wouldn’t be able to talk to him or anything.

Tim smiled and slowly stood up too. Together, the two made their way out of Martin’s secluded office and down into the archives. They had to stop halfway down the stairs for Tim to catch his breath and Martin had to fight himself not to reach out and steady him. He was risking everything by watching over Jon, he couldn’t push his luck any further.

* * *

Tim stopped outside of Document Storage with his hand on the doorknob and turned to Martin, “I feel like I gotta warn you first. When I said that Jon was really _really_ bad, I meant it.”

Martin was about to ask Tim what he meant but the second the door was open and he got his first look at Jon in months, his heart stopped. Jon was laid out on the old cot covered in what looked like at least four blankets, one of which looked like the one he used when he lived here after Prentiss. His hair was unruly and plastered to his sweat soaked face, much longer than Martin remembered. Propped up against a mountain of pillows, Jon’s face looked so tranquil but twitched every so often. There were dark bags underneath his eyes, red splashed across his face, and he looked deathly pale causing his scars to stick out more prominently. Memories of Jon laying in a hospital bed hooked up to an endless number of machines came flooding back to Martin as he took a seat next to the cot. 

Tim lingered in the doorway, watching as Martin tentatively moved his hand toward Jon’s face only to pull back at the last second. “Okay, well, I’m off. Like I said, he should stay asleep while I’m gone but if he wakes up just make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. And if you could, have him take his meds. His inhaler is there too if it seems like he’s having a difficult time breathing. Thanks again, Martin. Text me if anything happens.”

The click of the door closing signified that Martin was alone. Well not technically alone. He turned to Jon and in the silence of the storage room, he could hear the faint sounds of Jon’s wheezing breath. Martin felt a lump forming in his throat. If it wasn’t for the miniscule movement of Jon’s chest as he breathed, he would’ve thought that Jon looked like a corpse. God, why did Jon have to keep doing this to himself? He couldn’t just sit back and let other people handle the world’s problems, he just had to constantly put himself in danger. If he didn’t stop pushing himself he most likely will wind up de-

Martin jumped as Jon groaned in his sleep. He thrashed weakly against the pile of blankets on top of him and tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. Martin felt his heart break and he reached to brush away a stray tear as it rolled down Jon’s cheek but he paused, retracting his hand quickly. He bit his lip and clasped his hands together, this was a bad idea. He should go. Tim said that Jon would stay asleep so there was no real reason for him to be there. Tim would be mad at Martin for leaving but he was willing to risk that. Martin sighed frustratedly and rested his head in his hands.

“Ma- Martin…” Jon called out, his eyes still closed as his head lolled on the pillow. Martin watched as Jon’s movements grew more and more frantic. But no matter how much he cried and shuffled around, he remained asleep and Martin thanked his lucky star for that. 

This continued on for a while with Jon obviously suffering through nightmares and Martin fumbling with his phone as he tried to distract himself. If only he’d brought his headphones, that would’ve made this easier. Easier to ignore the man he loved suffered less than a foot away while his once closest and only friend had to go through the trials of physical therapy caused by a second traumatic event.

“N-no, please. St-stop...I can’t- can’t....please. M-Martin, please. I- I-” Jon tipped over to his side and started coughing harshly, his breath audibly crackling at the force. Martin couldn’t help himself as he stood up from his chair and helped Jon sit up. His skin burned and trembled beneath Martin’s cool fingers and he allowed himself to brush his fingers through Jon’s tangled hair. He’d daydreamed so often of being able to play with Jon’s hair, hours spent at his desk imagining how soft it’d be wondering if Jon would like having someone gently scratch at his scalp as Martin did at that moment, but the moment was soured by the current situation. 

Martin lifted Jon up, blankets and all, and climbed onto the cot, placing Jon in his lap against his better judgement. He nearly cried himself as Jon snuggled up against his chest, hoping to soak up as much affection and physical contact as he could. This was a bad idea, a really _really_ bad idea that Peter would punish him for later. But for now, Martin leaned down to rest his cheek against the top of Jon’s too hot head and rubbed a hand up and down Jon’s spine, frowning deeply as he was able to feel every single one of his vertebrae. Everything he did, he was doing for Jon and no force on Earth was going to stop him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: Oops! All Angst!
> 
> I wrote this almost immediately after posting the first chapter because I got *inspired*. I swear there's actual fluff and comfort to make up for all the hurt and angst <3

Physical therapy was hell but slowly getting easier with every session. Tim stretched out his right leg and gripped his borrowed cane before descending the stairs down into the archives. He wasn’t surprised that once inside, the area was completely deserted. He quietly cursed Melanie, Basira, and even Daisy for not being here. If they were all going to suffer at the hands of some stupid eldritch fear gods then they should at least suffer together. 

Walking up to Document Storage, Tim readied himself for the possibility of finding Jon alone. He never expected Martin to even say yes in the first place, so he wouldn’t be too surprised if he bailed the second Tim left. But once he poked his head into the small room, he found that not only did Martin stay, but he also went so far as to cuddle with Jon. Jon would never admit it but he was way clingier ever since his coma, amplified more after the Buried. If Tim didn’t need to sit down at that moment, he’d bring his phone out to take a picture.

Tim cleared his throat, alerting his presence and startling Martin, his head shooting up from where it was rested against Jon. The blush on Martin’s face nearly matched Jon’s and Tim had to hold back his laughter. Instead he smiled and gave a small wave, rustling the plastic bag in his hand, before taking the unoccupied seat next to the cot, “Hey. Sorry to ruin the moment but how’s our patient doing?”

Martin straightened his back, careful as not to jostle Jon too much, “He’s been...okay? I think?” He sighed and brought a hand up to wind his fingers into Jon’s hair, “I don’t know. He didn’t wake up like you said. But he keeps mumbling and shuffling in his sleep. It doesn’t seem like he’s actually getting any rest. He, um, he started crying at one point and that’s why I’m, um, you know.” He shrugged and vaguely gestured to his and Jon’s position. “Has he always been like this? Or is this just because of the pneumonia?”

“Sort of. I mean the pneumonia hasn’t helped,” Tim explained, watching as the man in question began to shuffle around a bit more, “ but at least his medication is helping him stay asleep instead of waking up every couple of hours.”

“Mmm? Wha-? Wha’s goin’ on?” Jon slurred, his face smushed against the inside of Martin’s elbow.

“Hey, speak of the devil. Think you can wake up for us, boss? It’s med time and I don’t want you taking anything on an empty stomach,” Tim said cheerfully as he reached into the plastic bag in his lap, “I even got some soup from the cafe you really like. Martin, could you sit him up so he could eat?”

Martin was frozen, terrified of Jon’s reaction to being in Martin’s lap. He stared at Jon as he gradually woke up and didn’t even register Tim asking him a question until he felt eyes on him. “Huh? O-oh, right, yes. Um, come on, Jon.” He swiftly pulled Jon upright against his chest and watched in horror as Jon’s eyes widened and rolled into the back of his head, his whole body going completely limp in his arms.

“Shit! Goddammit, Martin!” Tim’s voice was cold and furious as he gently patted Jon’s fever hot cheek in an attempt to rouse him, “Next time, think about moving him _carefully_ or else this’ll happen again, okay?”

Martin felt like a deer caught in headlights as his mind bounced between Jon passed out in his lap and Tim’s implication of there even being a next time. “I- I’m sorry. I had no idea that he’d-”

“ ‘s okay, ‘m okay,” Jon mumbled as his eyes struggled to open, “Don’ get mad at ‘im. He didn’ mean to. ‘m fine now.”

Tim’s eyebrows knit together but he sighed, dropping the subject in favor of getting something into Jon’s stomach, “Okay, okay. Now, why don’t you eat some food, hm? Then meds then I can leave you two to cuddle again,” Tim teased.

Maybe coming here wasn’t a bad idea as Martin felt like an outsider while Tim fed Jon the soup. Tim brought spoonfuls of soup up to Jon’s parted lips and used his thumb to wipe away a bit that dribbled down his chin. His mannerisms were so gentle compared to the biting comments he’d hurled at Jon mere months ago. The whole exchange seemed so intimate and Martin looked away, not wanting to intrude in any way even when it was all happening quite literally in his lap.

After a few minutes, Martin felt Jon push his face into his shoulder, “Come on, Jon. You’ve barely put a dent into this. Just a bit more? If you eat a few more bites then I’ll give you this biscuit I got for you. It’s got raisins and oats and other gross healthy stuff in it, your favorite.” Tim softly pried.

But Jon merely shook his head and buried himself further against Martin’s chest, groaning quietly and shivering. Tim sighed as he packed away the soup and reached for Jon’s prescription and a water bottle, “That’s fine, then. I’m glad you at least ate something. Now, med time before bed time.”

Martin couldn’t help but chuckle at the joke and prodded at Jon until he pulled away, obediently taking his medication and snuggling up against Martin once more. His hands gripped tight onto Martin’s jumper and Martin resigned himself to being Jon’s bed for now. 

The room was quiet apart from Jon’s soft snores and occasional whimpers. Martin’s hands were occupied beneath Jon’s sleeping form and Tim had pulled out his phone at some point, tapping away at a mobile game to fill his time. Eventually he sighed and pocketed his phone, “Sorry about snapping at you earlier, mate. I know you didn’t mean to. It’s just, I was so _stupid_ for being angry at Jon. I blamed him for everything: for his paranoia, for being trapped here, for Sasha...but none of that was his fault. I just wanted something- some _one_ to throw my anger at. Now he can barely stand up, let alone stay awake for more than ten minutes, and I guess I’m just trying to make up for, well, everything by taking care of him. We used to be friends, and I missed that, I want to be his friend again.”

Tim stared at his hands the whole time he spoke, too afraid of Martin’s expression to look up. Martin had no idea how to react. His heart ached for his two friends, he’d missed out on so much while working under Peter and the thought of leaving them hurt even more now. “Tim, I-”

“I want to be friends again, too.” Jon’s voice was muffled against Martin’s jumper but they’d all heard him. His shoulders shook with constrained sobs and Martin tightened his grip around Jon’s small frame, “I missed you, Tim. S-so much. And- and I’m so sorry for everything, I- I didn’t mean to- to be...and Martin, I- I miss you, too. And I miss Sasha and how things were before- _before_ , and- and...”

Tim joined Martin and Jon on the cot and brought the two of them into a hug, twin trails of tears falling down his face and joined Jon’s on Martin’s jumper. Martin’s vision blurred as he felt his own tears threatening to spill over. A sob ripped past his lips and he ducked his head against Tim’s, slinging an arm across Tim’s back and clinging for dear life. 

“M-Martin, please, please don’t leave again,” Jon sobbed, “I’m sorry for treating you so poorly, I promise to be better just please _don’t leave._ ” The force of Jon’s sobs shook his whole body and made Martin cry even harder.

“I won’t leave, Jon, I promise I won’t leave again.” Peter could go fuck himself, there was no way in hell that Martin was going to abandon his friends again. “I’m going to stay here with you and Tim and we’re going to fix this. I have no idea how but we are going to _fix this._ ”

The trio continued to cry and make promises to each other until Jon eventually ran out of tears and tired himself out. Together, Tim and Martin positioned themselves so that they were leaning against each other with Jon spread out on both their laps, various blankets draped over all of them. Martin sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, he’d have to come up with a way to break the news to Peter. He won’t go down without a fight.

“Hey, Martin?” Tim stared down at his lap but hesitantly glanced at Martin as he spoke, “Did- did you really mean it? That you’d stay? Or did you just say that because Jon’s ill and emotional?”

Martin made eye contact with Tim and nodded, “Yes, I meant it. Tim, I was in a bad place after the Unknowing. My mum was gone, Jon was in a coma, you were being distant and I had nowhere else to go. I just knew that I wanted to protect you two somehow so something like that wouldn’t happen again. I’m sorry for all that and I swear I’ll never leave you two again.”

Tim felt a new wave of tears behind his eyes but his focus shifted when Jon began coughing quietly in his sleep. He reached a hand to check his fever as Martin slowly lifted him up against his chest again. “We’ll talk about this more later.” Jon was warm to the touch but not worryingly so. Tim sighed and leaned his head against Martin’s shoulder, taking a long breath and catching hints of tea that clung to Martin’s jumper. “Let’s just focus on taking care of each other for now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely teared up while writing this because I love Tim and the potential for him and Jon reconciling their friendship after the Unknowing _hits_.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for all the love in the form of comments and kudos!! They seriously drove me to post this chapter faster <3

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a season 4 sickfic so much because the potential of a suffering Jon paired with a Lonely aligned Martin is so good. This fic kinda got out of hand so it's gonna have two chapters! Let me know what you think, kudos and comments are always appreciated. ~~and i swear there will be more actual comfort in the second chapter~~


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